


Wingspans

by wingsofanillyrian



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOTAR - Freeform, ACOWAR, F/M, Feyre being coy, Wingspans, acomaf, jealous mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofanillyrian/pseuds/wingsofanillyrian
Summary: Rhys sees Feyre ogling another male's wings... He's a bit jealous.





	Wingspans

I left Feyre in Azriel’s capable hands at the training ring before I made my way to the camp commander’s tent. Another boring day of political jabs and negotiations lay ahead, and I wanted to get it done and over with.

After the formal greetings and updates from the commander, we toured his camp and he pointed out various areas that “needed improvements.” More like he was looking for a bigger paycheck. I went along with it though, smiling when I realized we were headed towards the training pits, and therefore towards Feyre.

We reached the edge of the pit, which was more of a gently sloping bowl carved out of the Earth, roped off at the top. I spotted Feyre and a trainer- not Az, I noted- sparring off to one side. I leaned against one of the posts, observing my mate. The trainer paused for a water break, turning his back to her and stretching his arms over his head. As they sometimes do, the male’s wings unfurled as he stretched.

I glanced at Feyre, noticing her hazel eyes transfixed on the sizable span. Normally I wasn’t one to get jealous, but something about her stare awoke the primal Illyrian in my blood.

The commander (who had been droning on about something less important) squeaked and threw himself to the dirt to avoid being toppled by my midnight wings as they snapped out at my sides. The sound drew Feyre’s attention, her honey colored eyes darting to my wings. Understanding what had caused the sudden shift, she bit her lip.

 _Hello Rhys,_ she crooned,  _how long is your wingspan again?_

I growled as she once more turned to the trainer, who was completely oblivious to what had happened. Feyre only laughed, resuming her sparring once more. I moved stiffly into her view, turning my back to the pits. The noon sun warmed the thin membrane of my wings, and I sighed blissfully.

 _Long enough,_ I said, her amusement pouring down our mating bond. I glanced at her over my shoulder, catching her eye and winking.

 _I’m not sure, sweetheart. It seems like Konane’s-_ I snarled at the other male’s name-  _might be a bit longer._

_Why don’t I prove it to you then?_

_Here? But I’m training-_

_Mess hall. Now._ I barked an excuse at the camp commander, stalking off towards the large building at the center of the camp. Feyre’s musical laugh echoed through the trees, but I could still sense the underlying arousal coursing through her.

 _Naughty High Lord,_ she teased, climbing out of the pit and following after me.

I made sure she knew who  _really_ had the biggest wingspan. And I kept my wings on full display for the rest of the day, too, lest she forget it. However, I doubted that any of the Illyrians at that camp ever would.


End file.
